


Hindsight

by Ononymous



Series: Hindsight [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Toriel still wasn't sure what to make of these 'resets', how they worked or how much of it could be really true, but one moment, had things gone differently, refused to leave her in peace.





	Hindsight

This had been a wonderful idea, thought Toriel. The room throbbed with life as all sorts of monsters talked, joked, laughed or nibbled. The surface had so much to offer, that it was much easier than one might think to lose track of friends. So when Frisk suggested a party for their friends as a way to catch up, and those friends invited other friends and this had necessitated actually using the oven to keep up with the demand for her pie, she found engaging with her own friends a useful bulwark from being overwhelmed by crowds she was long out of practice dealing with. But that minor discomfort was a small price to pay to see the joy on everyone's face. As she thought it, she took care to put down her wine as Sans' story approached its end.

"... an' then the froggit said 'croak'."

It had been a sage precaution. As few things could, the punchline outflanked her sense of dignity and she was clutching her sides, giggling without control. Frisk didn't laugh, but they were content at the mood of the evening. Only one of the local group didn't seem to share that feeling.

"I DON'T GET IT. HOW IS 'THAT WAS A NARROW ESCAPE' FUNNY?"

"No Papyrus," said Undyne, "he said 'that was a _marrow_ escape'."

"OH. OH! I GET IT!" His cheerfulness lasted all of two seconds. "I GET IT AND IT'S TERRIBLE!"

"come on bro, you're smiling."

As the familiar argument started up, Toriel concentrated on reining in her own merriment, though the fact she was still chuckling denoted an incomplete victory at best. Still, if laughing was the biggest problem she had at that particular moment, it was a much better situation than the last few years, where reasons to laugh had always felt few and far between. And Sans wasn't the only source of laughter. A surly looking dummy was telling a long and highly rude story, what few words reached her floppy ears made her glad Frisk's hearing wasn't as potent as her own. That nice ghost she talked to sometimes was almost opaque out of embarrassment.

"So, Papyrus," she asked, finally regaining control, "how is your new job of designing puzzles coming along?"

It was like his foul mood had never existed. "EXCELLENTLY, YOUR MAJESTY! NONE OF MY TESTERS HAVE BEEN ABLE TO NAVIGATE THE LATEST MAZE I'VE DRAWN, IT SHOWS THAT MY PUZZLE SKILLS REMAIN AS SHARP AS EVER!"

"you sure you drew an exit in that one, papyrus?"

"OF COURSE I DID! A PUZZLE WITH NO SOLUTION IS JUST A PRISON. YOU HAVE TO GIVE THEM A CHANCE!"

"Hell yeah! If you gotta cheat to win, winning's not worth it!"

Toriel nodded approvingly. "I know we have disagreed on some matters, Undyne, but you cannot be more correct on this occasion."

She grinned at this royal endorsement. "Thanks! You're still wrong about how to cook spaghetti, though!"

The whole group laughed at this barb, even as Toriel sensed the edge of what they really disagreed about. And from thinking about that, she looked around again, briefly wondering where those mighty horns were, or why that laugh at Gerson's latest humiliating story was absent, before remembering Asgore wasn't there. Frisk had asked him to come - she suspected the whole party may have had an ulterior motive - and according to them he had firmly declined. She didn't probe into why, she already knew his reasons, and it suited her just fine. That being said, those features not being present definitely reminded her that this gathering wasn't like the old days, where they were ever-present. Still, the old days didn't have a beautiful sunset to underline the entire occasion, so she paid that niggle little heed.

The party continued, everyone eventually drifting to others to catch up with the news everyone had. The theme was universal, new friends and opportunities emerging among the humans, but the variations were manifold and detailed, so every story was listened to earnestly. Frisk had detached themselves from Toriel to play with Monsterkid. Undyne was having an intense flex-off with Aaron. Sans spotted Jerry – who had invited him, Toriel couldn't recall – and was giving him a friendly reminder about some money he owed. Only Papyrus still accompanied her as she now spoke to Mettaton, who didn't seem as interested now that Frisk was elsewhere in the house.

"Of course that dress compliments your horns, dear," he was saying formally, "purple is fine, but mixing it up with burgundy is inspired. Now, if you could let them know my limo can pick them up after school on Monday and we can work out a mock-rematch, it will be absolutely fabulous!"

"WOWIE, ARE YOU GOING TO ATTACK FRISK WITH YOUR MINIBOTS AGAIN? THAT WAS THE MOST EXCITING PART OF YOUR SHOW IN THE UNDERGROUND."

"I would not have called it exciting," said Toriel curtly, recalling the recording Sans had shown her, "and no, I do not want Frisk exposed to danger unnecessarily. If Frisk wishes to appear on your show again, I must insist you keep it limited to safe activities like cooking."

"Oh of course, darling! Cooking, I can work with that..."

"WILL IT HAVE THE CHAINSAW SEGMENT AGAIN?"

Mettaton's glare at Papyrus was harder than his faceplates. "Perhaps another time. Honestly though, that child of yours is a natural star! They can handle a little risk and look amazing all the while. You can't coddle them forever."

"There is 'a little risk' and there is 'chainsaws', Mettaton," she insisted.

"Oh, but it's not like I'm the only one who fought them," he snapped, "almost everyone in the Underground had a shot. I mean, even you fought them."

It hurt, but there was nothing unfair about what he said. "I merely... wished to protect them. But I see now that I was mistaken. I would never do that again."

"INDEED. EVERYTIME I FOUGHT THEM WE WERE ABLE TO REACH AN UNDERSTANDING, AND NOW WE ARE GOOD FRIENDS!"

"Thank you, Papyrus, that child is truly special to have so much understanding for... for..." She raised a finger to her mouth in thought.

"YOUR MAJESTY?"

"'Everytime', Papyrus? I thought you only fought once."

"WELL, ONE TIME THAT I CAN REMEMBER," he said, "BUT I'M SPEAKING OF ALL THOSE OTHER MES THAT TRIED TO CAPTURE THEM. I'M TOLD I SUCCEEDED MANY TIMES!"

"Ah, you are referring to those, what was it, resets?"

"YES, WHAT SANS CALLED THEM."

It still sounded utterly outlandish to Toriel, but Sans seemed to have believed Frisk when they talked about it one day, and someone who loves bad jokes that much would know when to be serious. And even without his endorsement, she found herself dwelling on old feelings of de ja vu previous visitor had left her with. Feelings that had been inexplicable at the time, and yet this impossible story offered the most coherent explanation she was aware of...

"Well if you've fought them a lot, then I certainly have," said Mettaton, "and that's even more proof they can fend for themselves! They must have done it because they had such a good time!"

"I'M NOT SURE WHY THEY DID IT, WHEN I APOLOGISED THEY WERE RATHER VAGUE."

"I wonder why that would- Wait, Papyrus, why would you apologise?"

"WELL WHEN I FIRST LEARNED OF IT, I WAS CONCERNED THAT ONE TIME THEY WENT BACK WAS I MAY HAVE ACCIDENTALLY HURT THEM DURING OUR BATTLE. BUT THEY HAVE ASSURED ME THAT I NEVER SERIOUSLY HURT THEM. NOT ONCE. THEY EVEN LIKED MY PRISON!"

Mettaton had delivered another self-serving response to this revelation, but none of it stuck with Toriel. At the words "seriously hurt" she retreated into her own thoughts. She recalled standing in a gloomy corridor before a doorway, trying to act aloof before a determined child. Did they not understand what danger they were in? Why weren't they scared? And why didn't they fight back? They couldn't go on like this, they were clearly tiring out. And then her confusion had given way to frustration, and then... anger. It wasn't at anything in particular, or at least she thought at the time, but the results of it was one final burst of flame to scare them off. And they had just about managed to dodge it. After that she had gone through the motions before giving up, And Frisk must have dodged it many times if Papyrus was correct. But... what if...

"i said g'night, tori."

"Hmm? Oh, farewell Sans."

His frozen grin looked over her distracted posture for just a moment, before shrugging and leaving, Papyrus following him. It occurred to Toriel that nearly everyone had left. Very well, that was their choice, after all, it was only- oh, the moon was out. As she tried to figure out where that time had gone, Undyne emerged from the living room.

"Cleaned up the mess Woshua left like you asked. For such a clean freak he sure can trash someone else's house. Hey Frisk, ya still on for hiking tomorrow?"

"Sure!"

"Awesome! I'm gonna go home and see how Alph got on with her engineering conference, but you can bet your butt we'll both be out tomorrow-"

"Frisk dear," said Toriel, emerging from her thoughts properly, "may I ask you something?"

"Are you okay, Mom? You look worried."

"Oh I'm fine, I am sure."

"Uh, is this private? I can just go and-"

"No no Undyne dear, you can stay if you wish." And without waiting for a response, "Frisk, Papyrus reminded me of those 'resets' you told us about."

Frisk frowned in discomfort. "I'm not ready to tell you why I kept going back, I'm working on it-"

"Oh no no no no no, I trust you on that. I just wanted to know... When I tried to stop you leaving the Ruins... did I ever... hurt you?"

It was obvious Frisk hadn't expected this. And yet at the same time they had clued in quickly to what she might be really asking. "Well, I got hit by a couple of fireballs, but it didn't sting that much. And you healed me right after!"

"I see," said Toriel. She continued to look down at this remarkable child full of understanding. Or perhaps completely lacking it.

"Hey, you doing okay?" asked Undyne. "Your eyes look weird-"

_"Did I kill you?!"_

Silence. One second. Two seconds. Please, Frisk, if you don't deny it then-

"N-no!" they spluttered.

Too late.

"...you are not being truthful. When I tried to stop you I..."

"It was an accident!" They cried. "I know you didn't mean it, it's okay-"

"It's okay that I agreed to take care of you after committing the most unforgivable-"

"You weren't the only one!" They were desperate to make her comprehend the incomprehensible. "Undyne got me twice!"

"Oh, I did? Uh, well, sorry I guess. We were trying to break the barrier and all... Hey, why are you trembling?"

She could imagine it. The body lying limp on the ground. Their green jumper standing out before the light of the barrier, next to the pile of dust- Wait, no, that was- I did the same- The same as them- The same as _him_ \- How can I-

"Mom?"

She flinched at the name. As if she deserved it. Nine children, and she failed them all, even more than-

"Hey Toriel, you want a seat or something?"

"No thank you," she didn't scream. "Frisk, can you please get ready for lunch- I mean bed?"

"But-"

" _Please go to your room!_ "

The command was completely empty of the authority she could usually ply, there was only pleading. Frisk looked defiantly for a moment, and then with fear, but chose to oblige.

"Undyne, could you stay here a while? I... need a... thing..."

Again without waiting for a response, she stepped through the open front door, with no idea where she was heading.

* * *

As a young girl, Toriel loved staying awake after her mother had sent her to bed. When the moon was full it lit up her entire bedroom, and she marvelled at how her white fur seemed to glow in the dark. It was a habit she'd lost by the time she'd grown up, but in those first dreadful years of being sealed in Mount Ebott her mind would often dwell on how she could never do that again. It was cruel, then, that the first time she did it in centuries it brought her no pleasure. The shade of the tree she had arrived gave the phenomenon a rather splotchy result, as patches of glowing white danced around her face and arms as the leaves swayed in the gentle evening breeze. Her younger self would have found this even more amazing, but her present self was preoccupied. And practically blind from tears.

The cascade of thoughts had stopped at least. Memories and imaginations and what-ifs and the crushing weight of emotions had finally retreated. Only a dull numbness inhabited her mind as her eyes followed one blurry white patch to another It felt like she had finally found her place in the universe, and she could just sit there for all eternity, a threat with a lot more bite from her than most people, and not have to think about the dreadful perfidy she had no memory committing, not that it was an excuse. So lost was she in thinking about not thinking about it, her brain missed how more patchy white blobs were appearing across her vision, and another colour as well, though she forgot its name.

"Toriel? Oh my goodness, you look dreadful. Come on."

Mechanically she took the offered hand, vaguely reminded of something similar happening once before, but in reverse. But that might have been a reset, who knew what she was really capable of. A second hand rested on her back, and she began to walk in the direction it was gently nudging.

"That's right, this way."

"Thank you," she said blankly, lifting her hands up to rub her eyes.

"My house is nearby, you can have some tea and then-"

Tea. That word jarred in her brain until it finally started up again. What had happened, who must be with her. Vision now clear, she looked over at her guide, and those purple eyes shocked her.

" _Ahh!_ "

Brusquely she shoved him aside and took half a dozen steps back.

"Toriel?!"

"What do you think you are doing, Asgore?" She had meant to be cold, but the worry on his face had disarmed her, and she had nothing but surprise in her tone. And maybe just the slightest trace of relief.

"Oh, well... I thought it was a beautiful evening. I haven't walked in the moonlight for so long, so I went out for a stroll, and that's when I found you..."

"...you are still a terrible liar."

He gave a deep sigh. "Frisk called me, explained what you talked about. Undyne's still with them, so they'll be fine. Do you want to go home?"

"Yes.” She said, then spoke again, suddenly, “No. Not yet. I do not know."

"Well perhaps you need-"

"I would like to sit down again," she snipped.

"Of course. Here's a bench." He guided her over and eased her in, but did not take a seat himself.

"Thank you, I suppose. I shall be fine now, you can go."

He gave another sigh. "No, Toriel."

She had been looking at her now glowing hands again, and slowly looked up to see how his horns had a similar effect under the moon. She was more successful in sounding cold this time. "I want to be alone right now."

"And normally I would respect that," he said, "but Frisk was worried sick after you left."

"They are worried... about me...?"

"Of course they are. If you prefer I could contact Sans or somebody else to ensure you aren't alone, but-"

"No, it is fine." Nothing was fine. "Well, you can sit down, it is not my bench to rule."

Accepting her invitation, he gently backed into the seat beside her, and began resolutely not looking at her.

"Do... do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Very well." From the shift in his posture he must have been looking up at the moon.

"That is it? 'Very well'? I thought you were better at this, Dreemurr."

"Oh. Well, I..."

"'Want to respect my wishes'. You know that was always your problem. You never knew when _not_ to respect someone's wishes."

He chuckled a little. "Guilty as charged. But all the same, forcing you to talk about it would probably upset Frisk even more. Then again, so would not discussing it at all."

She looked at him, colder than ever. "That is a low blow for you."

"Perhaps..."

The two of them sat in silence. An owl was hooting nearby. For a while they might have been statues.

"I cannot believe I ever..." she couldn't bring herself to say the word again.

"It was an accident. Frisk told me, they weren't quick enough-"

"How dare you go blaming them!" she snapped. "I was the adult in the situation!"

"I'm sorry, I am just relaying their words-"

She cut him off suddenly, "Ha ha ha. 'Adult'. I am one to talk. It probably wasn't an accident, you know. Let me guess, it was a particularly fierce burst of flames that hit them, was it not?" He nodded meekly. "I know the very moment. I was growing frustrated that they neither pushed nor yielded. Even when I ordered them. But they refused." Her hands curled into fists. "And then my anger just... bubbled over."

"At Frisk?"

"Not just them. It was like an old feeling which had gone long dormant and had finally roused. It was... everyone."

"...it was me."

"Yes. You for putting me in that situation. For betraying us. _Him_. Frisk for not understanding what I was doing for them. The others for never listening. And... and myself, for failing them. Even the children, I was furious at them for dying. And I just... lashed out..."

To underline her point, her hands were briefly engulfed in flame. Asgore looked down at the hands, but continued to avoid her direct gaze.

"And yet after all that, they choose to stay with me. To call me their mother. I just cannot understand. I thought I was better than you, but it turns out I-"

"That's enough."

The tone was dissonantly cheerful, but it had that edge she'd forgotten Asgore could conceal in his words. He didn't need to continue, she understood his entire point. At last she joined him in looking up at the moon. It really was beautiful.

"Six times." His tone was now despondent.

"What?"

"I killed Frisk six times."

She gave a badly suppressed bleat of horror. "How do- when did-"

"They told me. Just before you stopped the seventh. It was like you described. They neither pushed nor yielded. And you stopped me. As a mother should."

This offered no reassurance, only confusion. "But then they choose to call you a father? It is how they talk of you all the time. How can you feel like you would ever deserve-"

"Of course I don't." His eyes didn’t reflect the brightness in his words before the silence. They looked somber, dark. "But it is not about what I deserve. It's about what they wish."

"What they- Oh. Of course. Ever the pleaser."

"Naturally," he said, brightening once more. "They are a remarkable child. A whole kingdom seeks their soul and their response is to make friends. They remind me of him so much..." His voice faltered at the memories.

"Why do you think they want us as parents, though?"

He gave a shrug, his posture thoroughly slumped. "They said something about a promise once, but I've never been able to pry further. But it's beyond that now. Simply I think they've grown to care for us. It's why they are our future. I might as well look out for them as long as they want me to. I might even feel like I deserve it someday. But I’m sure it won’t happen for a long time. As is appropriate."

Toriel looked over at him properly for the first time since she realised he was there. He was smiling, but it was a small pained one that did not spread to the rest of his face, which was drooping. A large part of her appreciated that misery, that this was exactly what he deserved. But a small, new and utterly determined part was reminding her of what she had learned, and how it sounded like if anyone only Papyrus should be caring for Frisk. But that wasn't what Frisk had chosen.

"Perhaps I shall deserve it one day as well."

"You already do, do not dwell on-"

"I shall feel how I wish, thank you."

"Not if it upsets Frisk."

"And they are not upset when you feel as you do?"

"...they are. But they understand it is for things I have actually done. You have done nothing but care for them. Focus on that. It is not fair to have both of their parents grappling with this."

The hard-won wisdom he espoused actually annoyed her. How could she expect to remain angry at one who offered such advice freely?

Well, she might have to re-examine that some day.

"I am a little cold," she said, "may I... accept your invitation for a cup of tea?"

She half-expected his whole form to lighten, to become buoyant at such a concession, but it remained just as slumped as ever. "Of course, Toriel. I shall let Frisk know you are alright."

"I would not necessarily go that far, but perhaps I am on the mend."

"Do you still take milk?"

"You have to ask?"

"It has been a long time. Habits change. I didn't want to presume."

She smiled for the first time since stepping outside and chuckled. Ever the pleaser.

**Author's Note:**

> Proofread by [Doogly_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doogly_Writes/pseuds/Doogly_Writes).
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


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